


Hide & Seek

by JosieWtF



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-06-28 12:00:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19811878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JosieWtF/pseuds/JosieWtF
Summary: When a mysterious hooded woman, who covers herself head to toe to conceal her identity runs into Balimund one night, he gets overcome by a need to find out more and more about this mysterious stranger, but will he like what he finds out?





	Hide & Seek

Balimund gazed out at the town of Riften, while he tempered the sword that he was working on. He really did love this town, despite its, admittedly many, shortcomings. He loved the smell of the air from Lake Honrich, and the honey cooking at the meadery, and the trees that seemed to be in almost a perpetual autumn, and the crisp air that was warm enough to not need a jacket, but cool enough to not be unbearable. He had spent almost his whole life here, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

His adopted son, Asbjorn, was tanning some leather a few feet away from him, and he felt a surge of pride that his son seemed to want to follow in the same footsteps as he. Blacksmithing was an honest profession. A hard one, but honourable one. He made arms and armour for the guards of the city, and the Stormcloaks for the civil war.

He didn't really take sides on the war. Of course, in this city, you would never admit you were anything but Stormcloak through and through, but he really didn't think that the war was worth it, and felt that supplies should be used on fighting the Thalmor, and not the Empire... but, he was a simple Nord, he didn't have a diplomatic mind, so what did he really know?

Today was a day like any other, or so he thought. He'd gotten up, and went to The Bee and Barb, the local inn for breakfast. He'd never learned to cook, and he liked supporting the inn. He knew that the Thieves Guild took a lot of money from Keerava and Talen-Jei, so he tried to give them as much business as he could. Plus, Keerava always treated her well, filling his flagon fuller than most, and sometimes putting an extra egg or piece of bacon on his plate at breakfast. She was a kind woman, but not very popular around town, due to her and her lover being Argonian. Nords were nothing if not racist. Balimund didn't understand most of it. If someone was kind, they were kind. It didn't matter how they look or where they were from.

When he left the inn, he went straight to his forge to start work. He didn't like to waste any time, didn't like to keep his customers waiting. He worked on the forge every day from after breakfast until just before dinner, when he would go to the inn again for another meal, and most likely some mead.

Just as he was closing up shop, and walking over to the Bee and Barb, he was suddenly knocked off balance by something that had slammed right into his side.

"Gah!" was all he managed to get out as the wind was knocked from him, and he just about fell right over.

Whatever or, more accurately, _whomever_ , had run into him, had been knocked back, falling flat onto the ground.

"Are you alright? Er... miss?" he asked, deducing that it looked like a woman, as he extended his hand to help her up.

"I'm _so_ sorry!" she hid her face in what looked like embarrassment and gingerly took Balimund's hand. "I just... I was in a hurry to get to the general store before they close, and... I didn't even see you!"

She spoke in an accent that he was sure he'd heard, but couldn't quite place, she wore a set of mage's robes with the hood up, which made it easy for her to hide her face, which she was doing everything in her power to do. When she stood up, he was amazed at how _tall_ she was. He wasn't a short man, and he towered over most women that he met, but she was only a few inches shorter than him. Her robes fit rather snugly, and he noted a very lithe figure underneath, not at all lanky which would be assumed at her height.

"It's really alright, miss. I'm sorry to say, but the general store is most likely closed right now, he usually closes at the same time as I do, and I just closed." he said, feeling bad that she hadn't been able to make it. "Are you from around here? I don't recognize you. If not, I'm headed to the inn, that have nice rooms there, I can walk you there, if you'd like."

"Um... no, I'm okay. Thank you very much, I made camp just outside the city gates, so I can just go back there." she said, stepping away, making sure to still not let him get a glimpse of her face, all he could see was a single curl of golden hair hanging out of the hood.

He resisted convincing her to stay inside the city gates, especially at night, especially a seemingly young woman. She didn't seem to have a weapon on her to speak of, and he knew that a lot of bandits and other nasty things crawled around the woods at night, but he didn't know her, and had no business telling her what to do, so he just smiled and bid her a good night, and went inside the inn.

* * *

The next morning, after he'd had his breakfast and came back to the forge once again, he thought about that young woman again. He hoped that she'd been okay out there. He didn't hope that kind of fate on anyone. He started to worry that maybe he should have at least warned her of the danger... maybe she didn't know how dangerous The Rift could be? Its pretty colours could be deceiving.

He was yanked out of his reverie, when someone approached the forge. "Come to see Balimund perform miracles with steel, eh?" he said his signature phrase when anyone approached to buy things. When he saw who had approached, his jaw nearly hit the floor. It was the woman from last night, still wearing the same mage robes with the hood up, the shadow concealing her face so that he could see naught but a wisp of curly, golden hair.

He heard a laugh come from the shadowy face. He would have been a little hurt, but the sound was so beautiful, and it was a friendly laugh, not mocking. "I would like to see such miracles!" she said in that strange accent of hers.

His face went hot for a reason he wasn't quite sure of, and he rubbed his neck nervously. No one had ever _actually asked_ to see the miracles. What was he supposed to do? It was a figure of speech, did she want to watch him make a sword?

In a moment of boldness he said "You're looking at 'em!" gesturing to the various weapons and armour all around his forge, as well as the one he was currently working on. This seemed to sate her, because she picked up a sword and examined it carefully, holding it up to the shadow that should have been her face. The blade reflected the tiniest bit of light into the hood, and he could just make out a faint outline of delicate features, before she put the sword back down.

"These are very good." she mused as she walked around him. He tried to go back to working, but something made him watch her as she looked around. "I've never seen weapons like these. How do you make them?"

"Well, my forge runs on fire salts. That's how it burns so hot. It makes a more seamless blade. That reminds me, I'm running out of the fire salts, I'll need to go to Windhelm to get more." he hated making the trek to Windhelm. The cold was getting to him more and more over the years. His old bones had trouble handling it.

"Well... I have fire salts." she said. He thought he misheard. "You what?" "I have some fire salts. How many do you need?"

He was completely taken aback. Why did she just... have fire salts laying around? Who was she? 

"Ten would set me up for quite a while, that's how much I would purchase if I went to Windhelm, that's all I can afford at once. I will pay you what I would have bought them for."

"Nonsense." she said, "The only thing I ask for in return is a dagger. A very sharp one, that can be concealed in my robes and accessed easily."

What an odd request, but one that was very much in his favour. A dagger wouldn't even be worth half the fire salts. "I can make you the dagger, but at least let me pay you a bit." she waved her hand at him dismissively, which he noted was covered by a glove. What was this woman hiding? It intrigued him in a way that he couldn't quite understand. He wanted to know what was underneath all the layers she hid under, and he wanted to know why she was hiding. "I have all kinds of fire salts, and frost salts. You don't know how many atronachs I have to kill in my travels. Trust me, keep you gold, all I want is the dagger." she said before turning on a heal and leaving him to wonder how in the _hell_ a woman with absolutely no weapons was able to kill flame and frost atronachs often enough for her to have a collection of elemental salts just laying around.

He got back to working, but was having a hard time doing so efficiently because he couldn't take his mind off of the mysterious stranger. He didn't even know her name, where she was from, who she was... nothing! Just that the more he learned about her, the more questions he had, and the more he wanted to learn.

She came back a little while later with the salts, and a schematic for what she wanted crafted. He took the paper and looked it over.

"Yes, I could definitely make this, easy. I would need a few days, though. I can work fast but this is a bit different so it'll take me a bit longer."

"That sounds great! I will be here for a little while anyway, so I can wait." she said, "I'll come back in a day or two to see how it's coming along, okay?"

"Okay, that sounds good. I will see you then."

How was he going to work on this and get it done in time while so many questions about her buzzed around in his head? It must have been the mystery, that's what was so intriguing. It was the secrecy and his mortal need to know things. That thought almost scared him more, however, because what if she left town and he never found out anything more about her? That idea scared him more than he would admit to even himself.


End file.
